


Surviving

by ShazaLupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: HPFT, Gen, Hope, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, St Mungo's Hospital, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7770508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShazaLupin/pseuds/ShazaLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had survived the war, but not unscathed. A victim of violence leaves her filled with nightmares, wishing that death would come. </p>
<p>But one night, she stumbles upon a room and it's occupant and she just might realise all is not as dark as it seems.</p>
<p>'For LooneyLizzie’s Always Keep Fighting Challenge'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surviving

She twitched once. Twice. The first sign that something wasn’t right. Although since she was alone, there was no one to spot them. No one to wake her before it worsened. Before the twitching led to tossing which led to a fully-fledged nightmare that woke her up drenched in sweat and her heart rate twice it’s normal speed. 

It was always the same dream. Nightmare. She was alone, behind a locked door. Then the footsteps started. Loud, quick, and headed for the room she was in. She knew who it was but there was nowhere to run. The room, much like her old dormitory at Hogwarts but with only one bed, had only one door. The door behind which she could hear their footsteps. The scratching started next, loud and dangerous. The door was thin, too flimsy to provide protection. Easily breaking on its hinges, it slammed to the floor and she screamed as he lunged towards her.

Waking up her hands clamped across her mouth, trying to stifle the screams. The eerie moonlight did nothing to calm her heartbeat and her breathing was fast and erratic. The white room only had the basic furniture, a bed, a chest of drawers and a chair. She had been in St Mungo’s for almost a week and she still had no personal belongings in her room. She didn’t want any. 

She wanted out of here. She was sick at looking at the same, dull white walls day in and day out. But they were worried about her. She wasn’t safe. Her physical wounds had just about all been healed but she would never fully heal. Something was happening inside of her and she wasn’t going to last much longer. That’s what she believed anyway. 

The healers were full of phrases like ‘Don’t give up’ and ‘50% chance’ but she knew better than that. She was never going to make it out alive. She didn’t really want to. Her face had been torn and transformed into something twisted and evil. She had no desire to see her reflection again. The stares from people passing had been enough and now the door was always closed.

Her breathing now at a much calmer rate, she lay back down, clutching her wand for safe keeping. Although the man, no monster, who did this couldn’t come back, she still lived in fear. Trapped in an eternal nightmare. The muggles called it PTSD, she called it cowardice. 

If he couldn’t harm her then why was she scared?

Flicking on the light she slipped out of bed and grabbed the dressing gown supplied by St Mungos. Opening the door to her own room she took off down the hallway. She had no pre-planned destination, she’d just go wherever she felt like it. This was her favourite time to walk around the hospital, most people were asleep and so no one was staring at her, or judging her. It helped tire her out as it was hard to sleep after she’d woken up from that nightmare.

Climbing the starts she headed down another long corridor, similar to hers and was surprised to see a crack of light slithering out of a door that was wedged open.

“Oh,” she whispered, as she tiptoed towards the door and peered in. The noise, although faint, had attracted the man’s attention and he snapped his head towards her. He didn’t appear to recognise her, although his gaze was still friendly.

“Hi, are you coming in or just passing?” He enquired and she just walked in, still dumbstruck. It had been 4, no 5, years since she had last seen him and she couldn’t believe he was here.

“Professor, what are you doing here?” She asked, finally finding her voice as she joined him on the floor. He was looking through pictures but she couldn’t tell where they were from. They appeared to be landscape pictures, but nowhere familiar to her.

“Professor? Oh, maybe I was, yes, I think that would suit me,” he said, almost to himself and she just watched him. Did he even realise she was here?

“So why are you up so late?” He asked, which answered that question, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she’d be able to have a normal conversation after all.

“Couldn’t sleep, why are you up? What are these pictures?” She answered and he turned to look at her. His face dropped as he did so and she looked away, embarrassed. How could she have forgotten?

“Do I know you?” He asked, already turning back to the pictures and she frowned, why hadn’t he mentioned them? Most people didn’t as they realised it was rude, but her old professor didn’t seem to be quite with it. That was odd in itself. At Hogwarts he’d been charming and full of life, an easy crush for herself and Parvatia to giggle over late at night in their dormitory. 

“You were my teacher, a while ago now though, Lavender Brown,” she added on, hoping to jog his memory. She knew it was foolish, it had been a long time ago and he’d taught hundreds of students, he wasn’t going to remember her. Especially not now her face was so different.

“Gilderoy dear, why is your light on?” Called out a female voice and Lavender quickly got to her feet. Now she’d be in trouble. The door opened and in walked a healer, not realising he had company. She was rather round in the face, her brown hair tied back which showed off her smiling face.

“Oh, my dear, what are you doing in here?” She asked, her eyes flicking to Lavender and then back to Gilderoy. Her face had shown surprise, only for a second, but that was enough. 

“Sorry, I was just walking past, the light was already on. I just wanted to say hi,” she trailed off, already heading for the door.

“Oh, do you know him?” She asked and Lavender nodded, before shrugging her shoulders. She had done, but now she wasn’t so sure. 

“Well if you just wait outside I’ll pop the dear back into bed and then I’ll be right out,” she told her and Lavender did as she said. Half of her wanted to run away but what was the point? And the Healer hadn’t sounded angry, more curious so she figured it would be okay to hang around for a bit longer. It wasn’t like she was going to sleep, and maybe she could find out why he was in here.

The door shut quietly behind the Healer as she walked out and motioned for Lavender to follow her down the corridor.

“So, how do you know Gilderoy then?” She asked, her tone friendly as she lead Lavender down a series of corridors and stairs. 

“I don’t, not really, he was my old Professor, but it was a long time ago now,” she explained and the Healer nodded. “What happened to him?” She asked and the Healer sighed sadly. 

“A memory charm gone wrong dear, his mind’s not all there although we think it’s getting a little better. It’s hard to tell though,” she explained and Lavender struggled to hide her emotions.

“So he could be like that forever?” She asked and the healer only nodded. Still following the Healer, Lavender become lost in her own thoughts. She couldn’t believe what had happened to her old Professor. He had been so full of life and so exciting, the things he’d done had been amazing and now he wouldn’t do anything like that again. He’d probably be stuck here forever. 

“Here you go dear, try to get some sleep,” the Healer interrupted her thoughts and she looked up, shocked to realise they were standing outside her room.

“Oh, thanks,” she told her before walking in and shutting the door behind her. Sitting on the edge of her bed she let her thoughts go back to Professor Lockhart. How sad it must be to forget everything you’ve ever know, and to be stuck like that for the rest of your life. It was strange though, how happy he seemed. She guessed he didn’t know what was happening.

It still made her feel funny though, how he could live through something like that and be happy yet she couldn’t be happy even though she was still herself inside. It was just the outside that had changed and what did that even matter? 

Well it used to matter a great deal to here, but she knew that was wrong. She should be happy she even survived the attack, even if there was a chance it was only temporary. Most people didn’t last the night after the repairs she’d had done. Yes, she was extremely lucky and fortunate so what right did she have to sulk and act like she was already dead.

With a new found resolve Lavender climbed into bed and shut her eyes. Things had to change. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew that, but if she didn’t at least try then what would be the point. She’d survived the war when so many others hadn’t, she was still herself when Professor Lockhart wasn’t. Therefore, she should at least try and live a little more.

Starting now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the Battle of Hogwarts, with Lavender having been attacked by Fenrir Greyback.  
> Her views on PTSD are in no way my own.


End file.
